Page 22 of MissManaged


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The week dragged,each day longer than the one before it. I spoke to Charlotte each evening, but I wanted more. I wanted it to be Friday so I could start working on the rest of our lives.

Some might say it was too soon to be looking that far into the future, but I knew what I wanted. Telling Charlotte my thoughts wouldn’t happen for a while, but I had a goal and a plan. Taking her out for a romantic date was only step one.

Finally, the day arrived. I pulled up to Charlotte’s place five minutes early, grabbed the bouquet I’d picked up at Daisy’s Flower Shop in town, which involved being grilled by Daisy herself as to who the lucky lady was, and got out of my truck.

Even though we’d gotten to know each other over the past two months, first on a purely professional level and then as friends, my palms were damp, and my heart felt like it was about to pound out of my chest. This date felt more real, more important, than the other time we’d spent together.

But I knew that was just me building it up in my head. I needed to calm down, or I’d screw it all up.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I walked up her porch, wincing as the old floorboards bounced under my weight. Once I felt more in control, I rang the doorbell, only waiting a second before Charlotte peeked out the window and opened the door.

“Hi. Come in. I’m almost ready.” She opened the door wide, and I entered. “Are those for me?” she asked, pointing at the flowers in my hand.

“You look beautiful,” I said. “You’ve stunned me speechless.”

She blushed and shook her head. “You don’t have to say that.”

“It’s not a line, Charlotte. You’ve truly taken my breath away.” Her hair hung in soft curls, framing her face so she looked like an angel. She wore more makeup than normal, but it accentuated her delicate features without overpowering them. The black dress fit her body perfectly, wrapping around her waist and ending just above her knees. Black and red floral-print shoes were the only color she wore. She looked classy and feminine and put together, but not overdone. Much like she had at our first meeting.

She shook her head again and opened her mouth to speak but I had a feeling I wouldn’t like whatever she had to say, so I cut her off.

“Just accept the compliment, Charlotte, and remember rule number one.” I softened my admonishment with a smile.

Her nose scrunched like she smelled something bad, but she listened.

“Thank you, Tobin. You look nice, too.”

“Thank you. These are for you.” I handed her the bouquet. “We’re probably going to be the talk of the town by tomorrow morning.”

“What?” She looked up from the flowers and sounded alarmed. “Why?”

“Daisy, the lady who owns the flower shop, is a bit of a busybody. She asked all sorts of questions, so I’m sure she’ll share the news that we’re going on our first date tonight.” Her eyes widened comically. “It’s okay. She’s not malicious. She just likes to know the scoop. Everyone will be happy for us.”

She relaxed, but still looked confused. “Maybe for you, but no one really knows who I am,” she said. “I’m going to put these in water.”

I followed her to the kitchen and watched as she grabbed a folding stool out of the pantry closet.

“What are you doing, little fairy?”

“I’m getting a vase for the flowers,” she replied matter-of-factly. “They’re on the top shelf.”

I leapt forward and grabbed the stool from her before she could unfold it completely.

“You are not climbing on this stool in heels, Charlotte. Tell me which cupboard and I’ll get the vase for you.”

“Tobin, I am perfectly capable of using the stool without hurting myself. I do it all the time,” she informed me as she tried to take it back from me.

“I’m sure you don’t use it in heels, and I’m here and tall, so let me help you.” I knew she want to be independent and take care of herself, but this was just silly. There was no need for her to risk falling.

She rolled her eyes but relented and stepped back.

“It’s the cupboard over the fridge. There’s a tall glass vase with etched flowers on it.”

I handed her the stool to put away and retrieved the vase.

“Thank you for letting me help you, little fairy. I would be very upset if you hurt yourself right before our first date,” I said as I handed her the vase. “Hurry up and get those in water so we can get on the road. We have a reservation in a half-hour.”

“You’re welcome, Tobin, though I could have gotten it myself.” She rolled her eyes again, which we would talk about at some point, just not tonight. “I’ll be done with these in two minutes and then we can go.”

Charlotte was true to her word, and we were out the door less than five minutes later. The drive to the restaurant took about twenty minutes and we arrived right on time.

On the way there we shared our days—she went and took pictures of heritage pigs for her new client while I met with a prospective client. I hoped to sell them our organic milk for their small batch, artisanal yogurt. They were known for creative and unusual flavor pairings, and I was happy that Charlotte and I agreed that basil pesto yogurt sounded terrible.

We were quickly seated in a quiet corner booth when we arrived, so even though the restaurant was busy, it felt like we had some privacy. The waitress came and we ordered drinks, then perused the menu for a moment before deciding on our meals. I went with steak while Charlotte picked scallops.

Once we placed our orders, we each took a sip of our drinks while a slightly awkward silence settled between us. Which was ridiculous since we were friends.

“How come you don’t call me Charlie?” The question surprised me.

“Would you prefer I call you Charlie?” I asked.

She shrugged and took a sip of wine before answering.

“My friends all call me Charlie. I just wondered if you don’t like that nickname. I know it’s a boy’s name.” She sighed. “My father hated when anyone called me Charlie, so when I left, I pretty much switched to using that except for business.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner? I would have stopped using your full name if I knew you didn’t like it.” I thought Charlotte was a beautiful name, though.

“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just so formal and proper. And I didn’t say anything sooner because I wasn’t sure what was happening between us. But now that I know we’re becoming more than friends, I wanted you to know it’s okay to call me Charlie. If it’s okay with you.”

She seemed so flustered. It was so unlike her. Here was the shy and quiet Charlotte… no, Charlie, that Kenny tried to warn me away from. I didn’t like her feeling insecure. I much preferred when she was confident and sassy.

I took her hand and squeezed it, prompting her to look at me. “I think Charlie is a cute and fun nickname, just like you, little fairy. I have no problem calling you that. Except when you’re naughty. Then I’ll still call you Charlotte.”

She blushed and looked away, but we had more to discuss on that topic. Although we talked about a future with discipline in it, she hadn’t actually agreed to anything more than this date.

“Now that it’s been a few days since your punishment, I wanted to check in and see how you felt.” I lowered my voice so there was no possible way anyone could hear us, but she still glanced around to make sure we didn’t have an audience.

“My butt was fine by that night,” she assured me.

“That’s good, but that’s not what I meant. How do you feel about being punished? And how do you feel about having that be part of our relationship?”

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